Male Bonding
by SilveryMoon34
Summary: Harry's love life sucks, and Draco's just the guy to help fix it. Some mild Drarry later on. Rated T for safety.
1. Swallowing Pride

**A/N: Omg, another fandom! Anywho… this is not my first fanfic, but this is my first Harry Potter fic, and I haven't read any of the books for a long time, so if the characters are off, I apologize. Its not set in any particular book, its just a random little idea that kept bugging me until I finally started writing it. Reviews (praise or criticism, I ain't picky) are much appreciated. Enjoy =)**

"How does he make it look so _effortless_?" Harry whined to his friends one fine Hogwarts morning.

The 'he' in question was a certain platinum-haired Slytherin by the name of Draco Malfoy, who appeared to be flirting with a hot brunette at the Slytherin table. As they watched, she leaned closer to him, putting a hand on his arm, which rested on the table.

Harry all but growled in frustration. "I mean, look at that! He's not even trying and she's practically all over him!"

"Who cares about _Malfoy_?" Ron waved his hand in a vain attempt at dismissal. "Nobody, that's who. Anyway, Harry, here's what you do-"

Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, a bad but very comforting habit he picked up from Mrs. Weasley last summer. "Ron, no offense, mate, but no more girl advice. That last bit got me slapped five times today alone and death glares from half the female Ravenclaws in the school."

Ron flinched as he noted one glare in particular: Cho Chang's, his best mate's primary interest. "Sorry, mate."

Hermione, who had been studiously ignoring their stupidity by burying her nose in _A History of Magic _for the fifth time, finally sighed, carefully marking her page as she looked up. "Harry, you don't need Ron's stupid advice and even _worse _pickup lines to get a girlfriend. Just be Harry."

"'Just be Harry'" Ron mocked in a high voice. "Hermione, how can he be 'just be Harry' and do _that_?" He gestured rather obviously over at the Slytherin table, where the brunette was eagerly leaning over to kiss (_Ugh_, Harry thought) Malfoy. Ron flinched, misinterpreting Harry's look of disgust. "Sorry again, Harry."

"Sokay, Ron."

Hermione sighed. Both of them were missing the point, as usual. But Hermione was smart enough to recognize a lost cause when she saw it, so she switched tactic. "Well since you are so fixated o how _Malfoy _does it, why don't you just go and ask him?"

Harry let out a noise that was somewhere between a very unmanly squawk and a bark of a laugh. "Ask _Malfoy _how to pick up girls? You must be _joking_."

Hermione looked at them both, completely straight-faced. "I'm not. Besides, Professor McGonagall said-"

"I know what McGonagall said." Harry snapped. This year, McGonagall had made it a point to pull both Harry and Malfoy aside almost the second they arrived, to tell them to make nice or else, an order both had managed to dodge by avoiding each other at all cost.

"Well isn't that how boys make nice? By comparing notes on the female species?" Hermione asked slyly, knowing she had him, though he continued to shake his head in disgusted denial.

"I'm _not _going to talk to Malfoy, Hermione. Ever." But they both knew that he would, a fact that only served to piss Harry off more.

**…...**

In order for them to have their _lovely _talk, Harry had to catch Malfoy alone-which proved to be surprisingly difficult, as he always seemed to have a small posse of Slytherins following him around every where he went, in addition to small knots of admirers from every House. Harry felt his guts boil and churn with jealousy. How the hell did the git _do _it?

It took a week of (im)patient stalking, but Harry finally got his chance-almost completely by accident. He ducked into the library to avoid a group of murderous looking Ravenclaw females, who had been doing some (im)patient stalking of their own-on _Harry._ Harry shook his head as the group stormed past the library door. So smart, yet he avoided them by ducking into a _library_. Go figure.

He turned around, to see _Malfoy, _sitting alone at a table near the back. Just sitting there, book open, quill in hand. No giggling first years sneaking glances behind the shelves, no Blaise Zabini cracking raunchy jokes at Pansy Parkinson's expense, no Crabbe and Goyle guffawing stupidly at said jokes…Just Malfoy, and no excuse.

Harry sighed, gathering his courage as he approached the Slytherin. He opened his mouth-to say _what_ he wasn't exactly sure-but Malfoy beat him to it.

"Hello Potter." He drawled not bothering to look up from the parchment he was writing on. "Did you finally decide to obey McGonagall's orders to come 'make nice'?"

"No." Harry growled stiffly. How girls could get close to such an annoying git and _not _want to hex his brains out was beyond him.

Blue eyes flickered up at him for the briefest of seconds. "Oh _really_?"

Silently cursing Hermione, Harry blurted, "I want to know how you get girls to practically hang all over you without even trying."

He bit his lip as Malfoy's eyes instantly snapped up. He snorted. "You want _girl advice_? The great _Harry Potter _wants girl advice from _me_, Draco Malfoy?"

Harry shook his head. He knew this was a bad idea. "Just forget it, Malfoy." He muttered, turning away.

"Potter." It wasn't his name but Malfoy's sudden change in tone that made Harry look back. "Sit down."

Harry bristled at the sudden tone of command, but he did as he was told, seating himself warily across the table from Malfoy. The Slytherin rolled his eyes.

"First off, it would help tremendously if you didn't sit like a slouched bag of rotten potatoes." He drawled. Harry glared but sat up, straightening his back and shoulders against the back of his chair.

"Good. Now what you need to get through your thick skull, Potter, is this: the quickest way to get girls to 'hang all over' you, as you so eloquently put it, is to pretend you don't want it, like _it _can't have _you_."

Harry stared at Malfoy's all too serious face for about a half second before bursting into loud peals of laughter. He quieted down when the librarian glared at him from her desk. "That's _all_? That's the biggest load of bull shite I've ever heard."

Malfoy arched one elegantly shaped brow. "There are other things that go along with it, of course, but it's a proven fact that forbidden fruit is the most eagerly sought after." He smiled as a particularly snobby girl-Vanessa Burgess-walked in. "Watch and learn, Potter."

Harry watched, but all Malfoy seemed to do was go back to writing his Potions paper. He just…_sat_ there, all prim and proper, just the slightest fringe of pale hair falling over his forehead…Yet Vanessa seemed to deliberately change course when she saw him, obviously trying and failing to make the sudden change look casual, as she strolled right by their table.

"Hi Draco!" She beamed at Malfoy with a thousand megawatt grin. Malfoy just looked up briefly, a slight smile curling his mouth as he nodded to Vanessa-then he went right back to his paper, as if she had never come by at all.

To Harry's shock, Vanessa pouted adorably, but instead of flouncing off at the barely concealed snubbing, she quickly scrawled something down on a bit of parchment, folded it up, and slipped it under the edge of Malfoy's book.

"In case you're bored and wanna have some _fun_ tonight." She purred before trotting away.

When she was gone, Malfoy looked up at Harry with a triumphant smirk. Harry, who was gaping in disbelief at the parchment peeking out from under the book, growled, "That was totally a setup."

Malfoy shrugged. "Believe what you want, Potter." He stood up to gather his things. "If you still want my help, be here this time tomorrow. Until then, ciao."

**…...**

Later, at dinner, Harry stared down at his food, too busy contemplating to eat. He couldn't believe he was actually seriously considering taking advice _and _help from _Malfoy, _of all people, but he didn't really didn't have a choice. His love life was suddenly becoming like the Titanic, and if he didn't turn it around soon, it would somehow be leaked to Rita Skeeter, he was sure of it. And then his life would be well and truly _over_, no Voldemort needed.

Ron and Hermione joined him then. Hermione, the bloody harpy, had a triumphant look on her face. She knew, somehow, that Harry had talked to Malfoy. Ron, of course, was completely oblivious. He smacked Harry's shoulder in what was supposed to be in a comforting way as he sat down. "Don't worry, Harry. Cho can't stay mad at you forever."

It was a good try, but Cho, remarkably, wasn't what Harry was bumming about right now. He sighed. "I talked to Malfoy."

Hermione's triumphant look grew brighter. Ron, all things considered, took the news fairly well. "Skipping over the fact that that was a very mental thing to do…what did he say?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at them both and buried her face back in her book. Harry hardly noticed. "Just some rubbish about 'forbidden fruit being eagerly sought after' or something like that."

"He's going off the assumption that 'forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.'" Hermione was just too noisy not to butt in this time. "And it might work on girls like Vanessa Burgess, but if you try that on someone like Cho, you'll be worse off than you are now."

Ron waved his hand dismissively. "You don't need that git's advice, Harry. I've got it now. All you need to do is-"

Harry growled out another sigh, pinching his nose. "No means no, Ron." Ron shut up, pouting into his pumpkin juice.

Hermione sighed. "Do what you want, Harry. Just don't say we didn't warn you."

**…...**

The next afternoon, Harry reluctantly dragged himself into the library, half hoping Malfoy wouldn't be there.

He was, sitting exactly where he'd been yesterday. His book was shut, though, and he was sitting primly with his hands folded on top of it. Like Hermione, he'd known that Harry would come-which, miraculously, didn't do anything to help Harry's mood.

He dropped into the same chair he'd been in yesterday, sitting extra slouchy just to piss the Slytherin off.

A sigh. "Is your head so full of air that whatever you're told just drifts in one ear and out the other?" Harry said nothing, just flipped the other boy off.

"If that's how you prefer to behave…" Malfoy stood up, shoving his book back into his bag.

Harry, to his shame, caved instantly. "Ugh, Malfoy, don't go."

Malfoy glared back. "Are you done being childish?"

It was Harry's turn to sigh. "Yes."

"Then sit up straight, like I told you yesterday."

Harry bristled. Just because Harry had asked for his help, didn't mean Malfoy could boss him around. He just barely stopped himself from saying so as he sat up. _Titanic_, he reminded himself grimly.

"Right." Malfoy said with a wicked smile Harry definitely didn't like. "Let's begin."

Harry expected the lesson to be horrible-full of more vague hogwash about forbidden fruit-but Malfoy proved him wrong. Well, mostly. There was no more talk about forbidden fruit, but for that first lesson, Malfoy made him practice sitting. That's right. _Sitting_. As in stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down, over and over. And the fun part? Malfoy would zap him with his wand if he slouched even a little bit. The first time he did it, Harry almost hexed him on the spot.

"What the _hell _did you do that for?" He'd snarled. He had been on his feet, wand automatically in hand but not pointing at Malfoy-not yet.

The Slytherin had smirked at him, hip pressed slightly into the table, arms crossed over his chest. "What's the matter, Potter? Don't like my teaching methods?"

"As a matter of fact, no." Malfoy had merely shrugged, and reached for his bag.

Harry sighed. "_Fine._ Just keep it a minimum-a _bare_ minimum."

Malfoy mock bowed. "As the Chosen One wishes."

By the time they each had to go to their late afternoon classes, only thoughts of Cho and Rita Skeeter's possible scathing article about his love life kept Harry from hexing the living daylights out of Malfoy the second they were out in the empty corridor-but only just.

Harry staggered through the rest of the day, irritated and wondering if putting up with Malfoy was really worth it-something he found himself griping at length about to Ron and Hermione at dinner that night.

When he paused for breath after his rant, Ron took it up. "Practice _sitting_? How the bloody hell is that in any way related to getting girls?"

"Posture _is_ important…" Hermione muttered, almost to herself. Harry threw her a disgusted look.

"You sound like Malfoy."

But Hermione either didn't care, or didn't hear, because she plowed on. "Malfoy might be on to something with that."

"So your advice is to stick with it?" Harry asked dryly, already knowing the answer.

"If you want, Harry. Just remember that someone like Cho won't stay single forever."

Ron threw both of them a venomous look. "Traitors, both of you."

"Shut up, Ron." Harry and Hermione said together.

**A/N: and so ends the first chapter! Sorry that this one is fairly short and kinda boring…the next one will be better, I promise!**


	2. Lessons in Love and Friendship

**A/N: At last, the second chapter! Sorry for the wait. I could not stop writing until the whole thing was finished. The good news: the third and final chapter will be up sooner! Yay! Anyway…enough rambling. Please enjoy! (and review! =)…)**

The next day, no matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't get Hermione's words out of his head. They stayed there, taunting him, pestering him, until he found himself hurrying to the library, getting there ten minutes ahead of his usual time.

When he saw Malfoy wasn't there yet, it was all Harry could do to sit at the table quietly, and not jump up and pace. As usual, time wasn't on his side, and every second he wasted on waiting for Malfoy was precious…

In what felt like an eternity to Harry but was, in reality, only about three minutes, the blonde git appeared.

If he was surprised at all that Harry was already there, he didn't show it. He threw his over robes casually over the back of his chair, and dropped his bag beside it before turning to Harry. Before he could say anything, however, Harry blurted: "Are these lessons going _anywhere_? Because there's someone I really need to impress before some other git does."

Malfoy sighed. "The Chang girl." At Harry's surprised look, he sneered, "Don't look at me like that, Potter, as if you're not _absolutely _transparent."

"All right, _fine_." Harry huffed back. "Are these lessons going anywhere or _not_?"

A sigh. "Yes, Potter, they are 'going somewhere'. Now get up, we're taking a little field trip."

The 'field trip' was around the school, in the most common break areas, besides the common rooms themselves. Malfoy pointed out couples-even ones Harry didn't realize _were_ couples- as they walked with such an eye for even the most subtle of details, and with such complete analysis on what was working, and what was not, that if it hadn't been _Malfoy _he was looking at, Harry would have been surprised that he wasn't in Ravenclaw.

The lessons that followed flowed like that too, with Malfoy coaching Harry on everything-how to stand, how to dress, how to act-in between his critiques of others, until one day, almost a month later, they were sitting on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard. They were sitting there post-lesson, enjoying the unseasonably warm late November day, when Malfoy suddenly gestured-with casual grace, of course-at a couple talking nearby, near the courtyard's far corner. "Potter, what's wrong with that picture?"

A month ago, Harry would have said nothing was wrong-they seemed to be having a civil enough conversation-but now Harry could see that that was exactly the problem. There was too much distance between the two, and every time the boy tried to close it, no matter how subtly, the girl seemed to edge away, the barest hint of distress in the tenseness of her shoulders. The boy had screwed up royally, and she was about to break it off.

As Harry rattled off this analysis, he felt Malfoy staring at him. He broke off midsentence as he looked over at him. "_What_?"

Malfoy slowly smiled. "You're ready. Except one little thing…" Blue eyes drifted slowly upward, coming to rest not on his scar but his hair.

Understanding dawned. Harry covered his hair defensively with his hands. "Oh no, Malfoy. You're not touching my hair."

Malfoy just smiled.

**…**

That night found Harry wandering the corridors. It was getting late, but thanks to Malfoy's announcement that afternoon, he was too keyed up to go to bed just yet. He wouldn't be able to stay out much longer, though, not without his invisibility cloak…

He sighed, and angled himself towards the quickest route he knew back to the Gryffindor common room. He didn't really want to, but then again, he didn't want detention with creepy Filch, either…

He was walking past the boys' bathroom near the portrait of the Fat Lady, when hands suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, cartoon style, and yanked him inside. He tried to fight the hands and the sudden weight behind them, but they were surprisingly strong. He was left staring down at his shoes-until he was rammed suddenly against the sink. His head was directly under the tap, which gurgled loudly as it was turned on.

Freezing water poured down on the back of his head and into his face as he continued to struggle against the boy behind him, until-

"This would go _so _much easier if you stopped _wiggling_." Drawled a familiar voice.

"_Malfoy_?" Harry spluttered incredulously. "Leggo!"

"Uh, no." Harry tried to thrash, but then Malfoy pressed his knee into Harry's lower back, effectively pinning him to the sink. He was forced to give up the fight, then-Malfoy wasn't stronger, necessarily, but in this position, he had all the advantage.

Once Harry had stopped 'wiggling', one of Malfoy's hands moved from his shoulder for a second, while the other one slid up Harry's neck and into his hair. Harry heard a thump, then something cold and gooey touched his scalp. Malfoy muttered something, and the water grew warm as his fingers started spreading the-_shampoo?_-into Harry's hair.

Harry found himself reluctantly relaxing under the scrubbing. If it wasn't for the fact that it was being done against his will, and if he hadn't been uncomfortably pinned against the sinkin a rather…compromising…position, he might have actually enjoyed the watery scalp massage. Not that he would in a million years tell _Malfoy_ that, however.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a slight prickle of disappointment as Malfoy's hands moved off his scalp. The Slytherin dropped a towel on Harry's dripping head as he moved his knee off Harry's back.

"Was all that really _necessary_?" Harry growled as he straightened up. He kept the towel over his face, knowing that, for some ridiculous reason, he was blushing. Not a lot, but enough for Malfoy to notice.

He need not have bothered, because when Malfoy answered, his voice was near the door. "You'll thank me in the morning, Potter." Harry pulled off the towel, in time to see an equally wet Malfoy ducking out of the bathroom. Harry tried to follow, to tell him exactly how he was going to _thank _him for this whole embarrassing situation, but when he stuck his head out, Malfoy was already gone.

He sighed. _Mangy git_.

**…**

The next morning brought a shock.

It was a Saturday, and due to his late night roaming, Harry was the last one up in his dorm. As he staggered over to his wardrobe to get dressed, he touched his hair-and what he felt sent him running to his mirror.

He gaped at what he saw. "Draco Malfoy, you bloody _genius_." His hair was as soft as down, and shiny, as if each individual hair had been polished. Even though he had just rolled out of bed, there wasn't a hair out of place. And when he was dressed and ready to fix it, it took only a few minutes to make it absolutely perfect-unruly in a controlled way, not a hair misplaced.

He grinned at his reflection, green eyes sparkling behind polished glasses. "Potter, you dog." He winked at himself, straightening as Malfoy had taught him. "Knock 'em dead."

He tried not to strut on his way down to the common room-he wasn't _Malfoy_-but only partially succeeded. Only a few people were there-Ron, Hermione, the Weasley twins, Ginny and Neville, along with three first years-when he came down. Ron was playing Fred at wizard chess, with everyone else grouped around them.

Neville saw him first. The other boy's jaw literally dropped. "Whoa, Harry."

The others looked up. Harry grinned, fighting the sudden urge to strike a pose. "What do you guys think?"

The twins and Ginny whistled. Hermione beamed her approval, and Ron's eyebrows shot up, nearly disappearing into his hairline.

"Merlin's eyebrows." He said, his eyes as big as saucers. "You look _good_, mate."

Harry grinned. "Thanks." He turned toward the portrait hole. Today was the day he'd make his move…And with him looking like _this_, how could Cho resist?

A chorus of "Good luck, Harry!" from Hermione and Ginny and "You go get her, Potter!" from the twins followed him as he ducked out.

It was still fairly early, so there was a good chance that Cho was still in the great hall. Harry was fine, up until he was standing in front of the great hall's double doors. Then nervousness came on with all the ferocity of a Hungarian Horntail. He almost lost his nerve. Almost. He took a deep breath, and with Malfoy's lessons firmly in mind, he pushed open the doors.

The second he stepped in, it was like the night the Goblet of Fire had spat his name out all over again. Nearly everyone looked up to see who the latecomer was, and when they saw, the stares stuck. Harry even saw some nudge their friends as his gaze swept over the crowd.

In that split second look around, Harry's gaze locked on a pair of blue eyes set in a familiar pale face across the room. Malfoy nodded to him, ever so slightly gesturing with his chin. The signal was as clear as if he'd spoken it: _Get moving, Potter_.

Somehow-and he would never in a trillion years admit this to anyone, least of all Malfoy-that single look and gesture bolstered his confidence enough to get him moving. As he walked what felt like miles to the Gryffindor table, head up, shoulders back, with smooth, strolling steps, as Malfoy had taught him, all he could think was _Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip. _

He didn't trip, or even stumble. To an outsider, Harry showed no sign of the nervousness currently coursing through his body, nor even that he felt the stares of the majority of the room. When Harry finally sat down, the spell seemed to break, and the room filled with the rumble of hundreds of voice once more, though he still felt a lot of stares.

Harry felt a triumphant smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he loaded up his plate. _Let Cho try and resist _that.

To his disappointment, it seemed like she could. He loitered over his bacon and eggs, watching Cho out of the corner of his eye, but she didn't even do so much as spare him a glance, though her friends certainly did. Repeatedly.

It was so mind numbingly frustrating that when Cho finally left the Ravenclaw table with one of her friends, Harry violated one of Malfoy's all important rules, and followed them.

Harry followed at a distance, until he heard Cho say, "I think I'm going to go study in the library for a bit. See you later." The friend nodded, and they parted ways. Behind them, Harry smiled, pulling out the Marauder's map. It showed at least three different ways to get to the library's floor, and all of them would get him there ahead of Cho. _Perfect_.

In the library, Harry picked out a table in plain view of the door. Then, realizing he looked too obvious without anything in front of him-another one of Malfoy's rules-he jumped up and nervously grabbed the first book he saw, yanking it open at his table. He was treated to a page length picture of something that could only be described as a mound of grass and flowers with a hole for a mouth and small red dots for eyes-but it was too late to grab another book, because Cho chose that moment to walk in.

Harry hurriedly flipped the page and pretended to read-something he was good at, thanks to Professor Binn's History of Magic classes-watching Cho carefully out of the corner of his eye.

She noticed him the second she walked in, but instead of looking happy about it, or even intrigued, her eyes narrowed and her stride was decidedly angry as she marched over to his table.

"Harry Potter." She said flatly. He looked up slowly, as if just noticing her. "Cho."

Her hands were on her hips, her shoulders tense-definite red flag. "Is this your new method of flirting? _Stalking_?"

Harry smiled, hopefully throwing all his alleged 'Potter charm' behind it. "Depends."

If Cho had laser vision, like a certain American superhero, Harry would have been a pile of ash in that second. "On _what_?"

He cocked his head slightly to the right, raising an eyebrow a fraction of an inch. "Is it working?"

That threw her off entirely. Her hands stayed on her hips, but the tension in her shoulders disappeared, and her glare softened. She unconsciously bit her lip as she looked Harry up and down. "Maybe."

Harry adjusted his lower lip into a slight pout, knowing he had her now. "Maybe enough for a date?"

_Finally, _that intrigued look Harry had been aiming for. "Okay. Tomorrow, Madame Hodge's Tea Shoppe in Hogsmeade?"

"It's a date."

Cho blushed-actually _blushed_. "Okay. See you, Harry." She all but skipped off.

When she disappeared out the door, if there had been anyone else left in the library, they would have been treated to a sight. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, literally bounced out of his chair and proceeded to jump around his table, shouting, "Yes, yes, YES!" in a loud whisper.

Once he got it out of his system, Harry smoothed his expression out and headed for the Gryffindor common room.

When he got there, everyone except the three first years were still there. Harry allowed himself a quick smile before he came in, head down, shoulders slumped in defeat. He dragged his feet as he walked, catching their attention.

"Harry." He looked up at the sound of his name, from Ron. "How'd it go, mate?"

He couldn't have told the news soberly if he tried. His face cracked into a wide grin. "I have a date with Cho Chang! _Tomorrow!_"

Ron and the twins' cheers, and Ginny's squeal, was loud enough to be mistaken for a group five times their number. Hermione beamed as Ron pounded Harry's back. "Seems Malfoy was right." Her eyes instantly narrowed. "Don't you _dare_ tell him I said that, Harry James Potter!"

Harry held up his hands in surrender between gasps of laughter. "I won't, Hermione, I swear!"

**…**

Sunday's date went beautifully-Harry couldn't have planned it better. He and Cho were officially dating, and for the next few weeks it seemed like Harry's life was on a permanent, unshakable high. Not even Snape's surprise pop quizzes could knock him down. But then the inevitable news came: Cho was leaving, to visit her grandparents in the countryside over Christmas break.

On the day she left-a few days before the break actually started-she gave him a big, warm hug and an even bigger, slightly damp kiss.

When they broke apart, Cho pointed at him in mock seriousness. "You be good and I'll bring you back a present, okay?"

Harry rolled his eyes and circled his head with his finger, making an imaginary halo. Cho giggled, standing on her tip toes to give him one last kiss. "Bye, Harry."

"Bye." Harry watched Cho skip away, until she disappeared behind Hogwarts's iron gates. Then he turned away, a bright smile on his face.

He was just inside Hogwarts's doors, when he heard voices-one loud, sharp, and obviously female; one lower, more somber, and male. It was the male voice that drew Harry forward; he knew who it was before he peeked around the corner, though he never heard him sound so…_defeated_.

He peeked around the corner, to see the hot brunette Malfoy had been dating slap him, _hard_. Harry expected Draco to strike back-both the Draco that was Harry's enemy and the Draco Harry had come to know through his lessons wouldn't have let something like that pass. _But he did_. He just stood there, head turned slightly away from the force of the slap.

"You're a bloody bastard, Draco Malfoy." She hissed. "Promise the world and then run away-on the _holidays_, no less!" She punched him once, hard enough in the chest to make Harry flinch in sympathy. Still, Draco did nothing. The brunette threw up her hands and shoved past him.

Harry watched as Draco stood there, frozen, for a full minute before the Slytherin moved slowly away.

When he disappeared around the next corner, Harry came out of hiding, a plan already forming in his head.

**A/N: Aww poor Draco =( . Evil cliffhanger! But not to worry, my patient readers! The last chapter is already written, and will be posted as soon as I can type it up! So, love it, hate it so far? Reviews are love =).**


	3. A White Christmas and Valentines

**A/N: Here you go, the third and final chapter! Sorry it took so long. I finally got hours at my work this week so I've been busy…But anywho, I hope this is good enough to justify the wait! =)**

"Are you _sure _you're staying here, Harry?" Hermione asked him two days later, brown eyes wide with obvious worry.

Harry sighed. He'd been asked that question a million times already. "_Yes_, Hermione. The Weasleys deserve a Christmas to themselves for once."

"Nonsense, Harry. You know Mum and everybody love having you around." He knew Harry was up to something-Harry would have been seriously concerned for his best mate's intelligence if he hadn't, as it really was a paper thin excuse. But thankfully, Ron didn't call him on it, not as much as he could have, anyway.

"Yeah, and you usually do. Just…not this time." Ron nodded, looking more suspicious than hurt, but he quickly wiped it from his face as Hermione glanced at him.

"Okay, if you say so." Hermione gave them each a big hug. "See you two after the holidays."

Ron gave him one last searching look, before giving his best mate a quick one armed hug and a gruff "Bye, mate." He followed Hermione out.

Once he was sure they were gone, Harry dived under his bed for his invisibility cloak.

**…...**

It was harder than he thought to stay unnoticed (and not stepped on) on his way out with the crowd of departing students, but somehow he managed it.

He waited until he was well into Hogsmeade before ducking behind a house to pull off his cloak and stuff it into his bag. It wasn't until this moment that it really occurred to him what exactly he was doing.

He was staying at Hogwarts this Christmas-giving _up _a wonderfully chaotic Christmas with the Weasleys-for _Draco Malfoy_, of all people. And not only that, he was sneaking into Hogsmeade to get him a _present_, too.

But…He couldn't put his finger on exactly _when _it happened, but Draco Malfoy was no longer an enemy to Harry. In fact, despite all the attitude, the sniping back and forth…he was a friend, and Harry couldn't get the image of Draco standing so broken and frozen to the spot out of his head. He had to do this, for the Draco he called friend. He owed him at least that much.

With that in mind, Harry started off, looking into each of Hogsmeade's shop windows as he passed them. It quickly occurred to him that he had no idea what Draco would like…

He was starting to feel very stupid and foolish, not to mention desperate, when he finally saw it, the only thing sitting in the window of a small, humble shop at the very end of the lane.

Harry smiled. _Perfect._

**…...**

Christmas at the Weasleys' had always been something good to look forward to for Harry, but this year, he found himself looking forward to this Christmas at Hogwarts with more giddy impatience than he could remember feeling for a while.

Finally, _finally_, the day arrived. Harry tore through his mound of presents, mostly to kill time before going down to breakfast with Draco's present. He took his time with the last few-the one from Hermione (a book, of course) the one from Ron (a figurine of a scarlet-robed Quidditch player that whizzed about on a toy broom) and of course, Mrs. Weasley's hand knit Christmas sweater.

But soon, too soon, those too were unwrapped, and as Harry stood up, looking at Draco's little green and gold present, he felt a huge, uncharacteristic wave of nervousness crashed into him-as strong or perhaps even stronger than what he felt before, with Cho. _And why shouldn't it be? _A nasty little pessimistic voice whispered. _At least Cho was kind enough to not eviscerate you in front of the entire school. _

"Eviscerate. Ha." Harry muttered to himself. _What a time to grow a vocabulary_. Harry threw his shoulders back, and, shaking the pessimistic thoughts from his head, he carefully placed the little present in his bag and headed down to breakfast.

…Draco wasn't there.

He wasn't there when Harry came down. He checked each side of the smaller holiday table, but there was no sign of the blonde.

He waited, lingering over his breakfast, but Draco never showed up. He knew he was here for the holidays-Harry had not seen him on his careful trip out to Hogsmeade. Harry sighed. He'd just have to hunt the git down.

Harry looked everywhere-near the Slytherin common room in the dungeons, the library, even the boys' bathroom near the Gryffindor common room. He was no where to be found.

Harry had been wrong. Draco wasn't here. He wandered dejectedly out onto the snow covered grounds, finding himself moving farther and farther away from the shouts and laughter of the snowball fights, out towards the silent, half frozen lake.

He was so focused on miserably contemplating his feet, he didn't realize he wasn't alone until he heard a soft sigh. He looked up in surprise.

Several steps ahead of him, sitting with his back to a tree, was Draco. He sat crossed legged in his own personal patch of spring, a well-worn book sitting on his lap. As Harry approached, he could see the title: _Don Quixote._

"Odd choice, for a Slytherin."

Draco sighed again, rolling his eyes. "What do you want _now,_ Potter? I already taught you everything I know, and last I heard, it was _working_."

Harry just smiled, and pulled the now slightly rumpled present out of his bag. He dropped it unceremoniously into Draco's lap. The Slytherin stared at it incredulously. "What is this?"

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "What the bloody hell does it _look_ like?"

Draco looked up at him, one pale brow raised, as if to ask _Did you really just ask me that question, Potter?_ "A box badly wrapped in green paper?"

"Just open it, Draco."

He heaved a great, long suffering sigh, and started to, but then he looked back up at Harry, honest surprise written all over his face. "Since _when_ have you started calling me by my first name?"

"Since now. Just _open it_, already!"

"All right, _fine_." He tore the present open, slitting the top open with his wand. When he pulled it out, his face changed instantly from pinched irritation to almost childlike surprise and wonder.

'It' was a fine mahogany and golden eagle feather quill. It would write only in enchanted green ink, that could only by read by the writer and whoever the writer chose to see.

Draco stared at it for a long moment before choking out, "Is this a _joke_, Potter?"

Harry grinned. "No. Now get up, lazy Slytherin bum. I'm bored."

Draco seemed to ignore him, carefully putting his new quill away in his bag. A decisive snowball to the side of his head soon fixed that.

The Slytherin's blue eyes widened almost comically for a second before narrowing dangerously. "Oh, you're going to regret that, Potter."

"Is that a _threat_, Malfoy?" Harry asked, pretending to yawn, unfazed. Draco's responding snowball hit him in the chin while his mouth was still open.

"Oh drat. I was aiming for that cavernous hole you call a mouth."

Harry spat out half the snowball, mock glaring at his friend. "Oh its _on_, blondie."

Harry couldn't begin to know how long they ran about, pelting each other with snowballs, laughing hysterically (Draco, _laughing_. Who thought _that_ would ever happen?) but it was the most (strange) fun he had in a long time. But it soon had its end-with Harry flopping back on the snow near the lake's edge, worn out but happy.

Probably expecting a trick, Draco approached slowly, leaning over slightly to peer down at him. "What _are _you doing?"

"Laying down, obviously." Harry folded his arms behind his head. "Join me?"

Draco shook his head, a slight, honest smile curling his lips. "No, thank you."

"Oh come _on_. Its not like you're not already covered in snow." Draco sighed, giving in, much to Harry's surprise.

"All right, _fine_." Primly, he sat beside Harry, and then leaned back, his shoulder lightly brushing Harry's arm, leaving a trail of electricity along his skin. Draco's skin was warm, flushed from their snowy romp. Harry looked quickly away, back up at the fuzzy gray sky above, not sure exactly what to call the sudden tingly knot in his stomach feeling the accidental touch had given him.

Beside him, he hear Draco sigh. Not the huffy, put upon one that Harry was expecting, but the soft, contemplating one he heard earlier, before he had announced his presence.

"Thank you…Harry. Merry Christmas."

Harry smiled, the sudden tension in his gut easing. "Merry Christmas, Draco."

**…...**

After that Christmas, something in his dynamic with Cho changed. It had nothing to do with her-Harry seriously doubted she was aware that anything had even changed.

He couldn't help it. He just didn't feel the same giddy high anymore. It was nice to hang around with Cho, but it was hard to feel a spark when they kissed…when they held hands…when she smiled…when a growing unease kept intruding on his thoughts. It was made worse by the fact that Ron seemed to be irritated with him, Hermione was actually staying out of it this time and refusing to talk to either of them, and Draco…Harry saw him often, but he avoided Harry's glance, surrounded once more by his posse of Slytherins.

It was all very depressing, really, but Harry threw himself into acting like it wasn't, into pretending he was still giddy about being with Cho. He was terrified of what he would find if he looked closer at the reason for his melancholy.

January went by in a blink of an eye as things slowly improved. Harry eventually made up with Ron by gushing (sincerely) about Ron's Christmas gift. Hermione started speaking to them both again once she saw that their friendship had been repaired. But Draco…Draco continued to act as if Harry didn't exist, and that hurt more than Harry would admit to anyone, least of all to himself…

But one day, in the second week of February, he allowed himself a glimmer of hope. In Potions, one of only two classes he shared with Draco, he felt a ball of paper hit the side of his head. Ducking under his table, he scooped it up and opened it eagerly, expecting enchanted green ink. It was a good thing he was still under the table, because he couldn't hide his disappointment when it was small, neat black ink instead, from Cho, who sat two worktables behind him.

As he quickly popped back up-to avoid making Snape suspicious-he smoothed it out and read it as he added a bezoar to his potion.

_Will you, Harry Potter, agree to accompany me to Madame Hodges's Tea Shoppe this Valentine's Day? _It asked coyly, making Harry smile despite his disappointment.

_Of course. But isn't it my job to ask you? _He answered back, charming the paper to roll to Cho underneath the tables.

The reply came back within minutes, bumping gently against his foot. _It's a date_.

**…...**

Harry tried to get excited about the date-hard enough to suffer through a patented Ronald Weasley Pre-Date Pep Talk. It helped, some. Once he was ready and outside-Cho would be meeting him just outside the courtyard-He felt loads better. He took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of the cold air on his face and in his lungs. He would go on this date and make it wonderful for Cho, and he would forget all this nonsense. He let out his breath, throwing his shoulders back, automatically diving into his role of Cool and Irresistible Harry, pulling him on like a second skin, just for Cho.

He smiled his best and most brilliant smile at her when he reached her, offering his arm. "Madame."

Her red lipsticked mouth tugged up into a sweet smile. She was completely taken in, as always. "Harry."

Once inside the tea shop, and seated in the pink frilly booths within, Cho happily chattered on about their first date here. Harry tried to listen, he really did, but being here, again, reminded him of someone else, someone who would be alone this Valentine's Day, and finally, the dam broke. Suddenly he couldn't get the images out of his head: laughing with him as they pelted each other with snowballs…the look on his face as he lifted the quill out of the box…lying together under the gray sky, close enough to touch…

Harry found himself standing up, cutting Cho off midsentence. As she looked up at him in surprise, he blurted, "I'm sorry, Cho, but I can't do this."

Her shocked stare bored into his back as he fled the little tea shop.

**…...**

A little later, and Harry was walking swiftly across the dusky school grounds, a case of butterbeer in hand. He had a feeling that he knew exactly where to find Draco-he just prayed that he would be alone when he got there.

He was. And just as before, Harry saw him first. The Slytherin sat not against a tree this time but at the lake's edge, cross legged, just staring out across the lake, where the giant squid's milky tendrils traced lazily across the surface.

Harry took a quiet step closer to him, opening his mouth to say something, but he beat him to it.

Draco sighed loudly. "I know you're there. You're absolutely shite at being stealthy." He looked over as Harry finished his approach.

Harry held up the butterbeer, almost sheepishly, sudden nervousness striking him once again. "Peace offering?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Butterbeer, Potter?"

"Sorry. The Three Broomsticks isn't exactly classy."

The other boy snorted. "Right." He gave Harry a strange look the other couldn't quite decipher. "What are you offering a peace offering for anyway, Potter?"

"You tell me, _Draco_." Harry retorted, making a point to use Draco's first name. The Slytherin looked away, back across the lake.

After a moment, he sighed again. "Well sit down, then."

Harry sat, placing the butterbeer carefully between them. To his surprise, and despite his sarcastic complaint, Draco was first to grab one and start downing it.

They sat there quietly, watching the squid and downing the beers. Somewhere around his fourth, Harry realized something.

"Oi, Draco, you never answered me." He didn't slur any of that. Honest.

Despite getting the first one, Draco had hardly touched his share of the case. He looked over at Harry when he spoke up with slightly haunted eyes. Then, before Harry's foggy brain could fully process the movement, he leaned over and grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt.

"Draco-" The other boy's surprisingly soft lips molded gently over Harry's, interrupting whatever he had been about to say next. Harry relaxed into the sweet sensation for a moment…and then his brain caught up and he yanked back. "Whoa, what…?"

That familiar, put upon sigh. "_Honestly_, Potter, do I have to spell it out for you?"

Harry should have been surprised-disgusted, maybe-but all he felt was warm, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. "Careful, Draco. I might be inclined to think you're trying to seduce me."

Draco rolled his eyes, but his smile was genuine. "You're a genius, Po-Harry."

Harry shook his head. "Nope. Just a teensy bit drunk."

"More than a bit." Draco's face was still very close, but Harry didn't mind at all. In fact, he was seriously wondering whether or not he dared to return the kiss when a sharp noise above made them both look up.

Valentine's Day fireworks lit up the sky above the lake. Three dimensional hearts, cupids, and other Valentine's Day staples paraded across the darkened sky, but Harry felt his gaze being drawn back to Draco, who seemed to glow in their light like a pale angel.

_Oh what the hell._ Harry pulled Draco's face back around by the chin. He got a distinct impression of blue eyes wide with astonishment before they were kissing once more.

When they pulled back, Harry grinned. "Hey Draco."

Draco's voice was faint, his eyes half closed. "Yeah?"

"Happy Valentine's Day, you git."

Draco smiled. "Happy Valentine's Day yourself, you dolt."

**A/N: They're so cute when they insult each other, aren't they? *wipes eyes* I had a real blast writing this one. I hope you guys can say the same about reading it =)**

**P.S. Yeah, I remember that Cho is a grade above Harry, and therefore wouldn't be in the same Potions class, but…I plead artistic license, or whatever its called =).**

**Thanks for reading! You guys are awesome!**


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